


Addicted To You

by adia90



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adia90/pseuds/adia90
Summary: Sequel to Til I Get Over You that nobody asked for.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Winifred Rose, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Royal "Roy" Gardner & Anne Shirley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Addicted To You

“I just don’t want to be the centre of our friends’ attention, Gil.”

Gilbert exhaled. It has been four weeks since Christmas and he was allowed to kiss her, provided it was done not in front of their family and friends. 

“Anne, it is moot. They all know about us,” he tried to reason. It was killing him to pretend not to be in love with her, when even before they were secretly dating, he was enamored with her. 

“They don’t,” she replied nonchalantly. “All they know is you’re having it rough being single now and that’s the reason why you’re in my place so often.”

Gilbert groaned. “Anne, I am in your place all the time because I want to be with you!”

Anne shrugged. “Well, that’s not what they think. Besides, it’s just for awhile. Maybe a few more months?” 

“So I can’t kiss you when they are around? At all?” He asked in disbelief. 

“It’s just like before. Why are you so mad?”

He was not mad. He was just frustrated. He had waited almost a DECADE to call the woman in front of him as his, and he was supposed to act like they were just not swapping spit in the back of his car. 

That day before they flew back to Toronto, he had picked her up for a night in town, just a simple date he had dreamed off while they were back in high school. He had taken her to Marian’s, a local favourite, for dinner. 

“I remember running into you and Christine here,” she reminisced, her face unreadable. 

Gilbert cringed inwardly. That was the night he had lost his virginity to the cheerleading captain, although he had spent the day earlier composing a poem for his best friend, Anne. 

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He asked gently, trying to salvage whatever mood left for their first official date. 

She waved off with her hand, a polite smile on her face. “They do have the best cheeseburger in town. And where else could we go in this weather, Gil? Let’s just have dinner and leave.”

Back in Toronto, he was bursting at the seams, trying to contain himself from blurting to his friends that he was kissing Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. It has been wonderful since Christmas and New Year, with the slight glitch at Marian’s. 

So when she had dropped the bomb, he felt like the kid whose candy was taken away. 

“Do we have a timeline on when we make things official?” he asked urgently. 

She looked at him disbelievingly. “Do you want me to make a Power Point presentation on when it’s the right time not to baffle our friends?”

Gilbert sighed. “They are not going to be baffled, Anne.”

She snorted. “Yeah, they will. I’m really not up for the twenty questions that’d be coming our way.”

So eventually, he relented. They were at Moody’s and he was just trying not to stare creepily at his secret girlfriend when he felt a slap on his back. 

“Sup, Mood,” he nodded, holding up his beer in greeting. 

Moody shook his head. “When are you going to make your move, Blythe? What next, she moves away to another capital in Europe and maybe this time she’d say yes to a second proposal.”

The color change on his face must have been too obvious to leave Moody snapping his fingers in triumph. “I knew it!”

Gilbert tossed back his beer in an attempt to keep from blurting the secret. 

“I knew you’ve been hung up on her!” Moody whisper-shouted, having the courtesy to keep their friends out of the conversation. Gilbert watched as the love of his life tucked an amber strand behind her ears, revealing the black pearl earring he had gifted her for Christmas. He smiled inadvertently, remembering the thank you kiss he received. 

“What’s with the smile?” his friend asked curiously. “Fuck, you guys messin’ already?” 

“We’re just kissing,” Gilbert mumbled.

Moody raised an eyebrow. It was a different game plan compared to the previous ‘fuck first, name later’ modus operandi Gilbert had been deploying before. 

But understandably, Anne has always been his end game, so Moody was glad his friend was keeping it in his pants this time around. 

“So how long have you been ‘just kissing’?”

Gilbert shrugged, peeling his eyes of the redhead and staring at his shoes. “Since Christmas.”

“You guys have been ‘just kissing’ since Christmas and not bothered to inform us on the change of status?” 

He shrugged again. “Was her idea,” he mumbled. “She claimed and I quote, ‘not baffling our friends’.”

Moody stared at his friend, torn whether to be in pity or ‘serves you right’ direction. “She did wait for your sorry ass for the past two decades, you know.”

“You think it’s revenge?” 

“You seriously believe that? Then you don’t deserve her,” Moody replied. Gilbert cringed. “I’m thinking more along the line of self preservation,” Moody replied delicately. “You need to be patient, Blythe.”

He nodded. “I know.”

* * *

Valentine’s was around the corner and he really wanted to make it special for his girlfriend. 

He had waited his entire life to call her his girlfriend.

So he brought it up during their standing lunch date. He smiled how it had evolved; no longer was he staring at her from across the table. Now, he could sit real close up in her personal space, with her hand in his, and he could lean down to peck her on her lovely smelling hair whenever he wanted. 

He tried not to be that annoying boyfriend who was clingy and cringe-worthy. But how could he not when she was so gorgeous, even when she was annoyed at him. “It’s my turn with the bill this time, Gil,” she warned, slanting her eyes. 

He smiled, pecking her on the nose. “Fine. Next time I’m ordering Kobe strip and see if you still want to pick up the tab,” he teased. 

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Then I’m using CBC’s Mastercard and file it under ‘entertainment’,” she replied, grinning widely. “Cause you Sir, are a chore.”

“I take offence to that,” he said, pouting. 

She kissed him briefly on the lips. “I know you earn gazillions repairing people’s hearts, Dr. Blythe, but you are not my personal ATM,” she said softly. “I don’t mean to offend you.”

He looked at her, pretty convinced he had a dopey smile on his face. “I know. I just want to pamper you, Anne.”

She gazed at him, her cerulean eyes crinkling at the side. “I appreciate you, Gilbert Blythe.”

It was not the word he was waiting for, but for now, it would do. “I appreciate you so much, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

* * *

They ran into her after one of their date nights at a convenience store for a liquor run. 

She immediately dropped his hand, clutching the strap of her crossbody. The blonde approached them once she noticed them, a smile on her face. God, the blonde curls, the lithe body, she’s gorgeous. 

“Hello, guys,” Winifred greeted, flashing them her pearly whites. 

Anne looked discreetly at her boyfriend, who looked the worst kind of awkward. “Hi, Winnie. How are you?” she replied, a small smile on her face as she took a step away from him. 

“I’m good, Anne. Didn’t know that you’re back from Paris! How was it? Did you love it?” she asked, enthusiastic, her British accent shining through. 

“I came back in June. Paris was a dream come true. I fell in love with it,” she replied truthfully. She looked at him, standing by her side. He was looking at her, a nervous smile on his lips. “I’m gonna go to the wine aisle to grab something for Diana. Keep in touch, Winnie.”

A few minutes later, he found her studying the bottle of a Hibiki 17. “Your taste for Japanese whisky never fails to amuse me,” he commented, landing a gentle hand around her hips. 

“What’s not to like? Exotic, foreign,” she replied, raising an eyebrow to look at him. “Pretty packaging.” 

He tilted his head to the side, for once, looking at her with a challenging stare. “I don’t know, Anne. I like mine local. Familiar,” he started, leaning down to take a whiff of her hair. “Fragrant.” He leered down her body. “gorgeously blended.” 

Her heart sped up. Those darkened hazel eyes were doing something to her. “She’s still here?” she asked, her voice low, looking around.   


“Nope, she left,” he replied, leaning closer. “My place?”

She pondered. “I got that early meeting with Muriel tomorrow,” she replied, trying to appear apologetic. 

He smiled placatingly. “Next time then.”

* * *

_Hey, beautiful._

Her lips curved into a smile. It has been months since his last text. 

**_Hey. How are you?_ ** ****

_I’m good. Just saw the update on LinkedIn. Félicitations!_

**_Thank you._** She stared at her phone, biting her lip. **_Congratulations on your latest M &A. Entering the China market is no easy feat, Sir._** ****

_Thank you. 2019 had its ups and downs._

She didn’t need him to elaborate. She remembered his dark eyes the moment she shook her head no, crying in despair. **_I’m sorry._** ****

_I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Anne._

She watched as the screen indicated that he was still typing. 

_How’s Gilbert? Is he treating you well?_

**_He’s good. He is._ ** ****

_Good. Because you deserve nothing less._

* * *

It was back to staring at the back of her head. 

Running into Winnie just showed how rotten his luck was. The night had been going on so well. He should have just insisted for the night cap at his place, instead of dropping by for some whisky for hers. 

He told himself he wanted to get her to his just so they could have a change of scenery. They had been hanging out at her place half of last year in an attempt to help her moving on from Roy. And he didn’t want to look at a corner and remembered that it was where he saw her sobbing after reading a text on her phone. 

Or the seat by the window where she had sat for hours looking at the rain, her thoughts thousands of miles away across the ocean, while physically she was there right in front of him, yet still out of reach. 

He could not help the irritation that had surfaced from the meeting with Winnie. He knew she was still interested, although he heard through the grapevine that she was banging some plastic surgeon from fifth floor. She had high aspirations indeed, for a nurse. Fucking her was a mean to pass the time; she was there, and he was still contemplating whether it was time to man up and be with Anne. 

He knew it was a slap to her face when he had told her he wanted to stop meeting in the staff room. He was surprised that she had thought there was something more; they went to a baseball game once and the rest were random hookups in the oncall room. 

_“It was always her, isn’t it?” she had screamed. He had half the mind to back away from her; blonde angelic look gone in a second, replaced by a screaming banshee._

_“Who?”_

_“Anne! It was ‘Anne just told me this’, ‘Anne texted me that’, ‘I remember Anne likes this’, ‘I want to buy that for Anne’!” she shouted. “She’s like a ghost that is haunting you!”_

_He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Look, I’m sorry. I thought we were just having fun.”_

_“Fuck you, Blythe! Fuck you. You’re a fucking asshole!”_

_“Again, I’m sorry -.”_

_“Save it! Go to your pug-faced bitch, for all that I care!”_

_He snapped. “Thanks for lending me your pussy, I’ll make sure to rate it 3 stars on Yelp.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t know you’re fucking Dr. Ward on the side. That glowing recommendation for your master degree scholarship definitely did not come for free.”_

_He managed to escape from a patient’s file to his head by a narrow margin._

“You’re burning holes through her head. I thought this shitshow would be over in 2020,” Diana commented as she took a seat next to him. 

“Your kindred spirit is pretty hard to read,” he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. 

Diana chuckled. “You don’t say.” She nudged him with her elbow. “How are you hanging with the news that Roy is visiting next week?”

He frowned. “What?”

Diana’s face dropped. “Shit. You didn’t know.” 

He shook his head, gripping his tumbler tightly. “Nope.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“She had almost married that guy, Diana.”

“But she didn’t,” she argued softly. “Look, maybe she didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to, you know, overthink.” 

He emptied his tumbler in one gulp. “Too late for that.” 

* * *

“I’m so sorry, Gil, but something came up at work and I just can’t pull out.”

She looked genuinely sorry. She sounded genuinely sorry. 

“Well, Whistler is not going away and relocate to another continent, so there’s always another winter, I guess,” he replied, halfheartedly, shrugging. 

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay, Gil?”

He sighed, eventually getting up from his place on the couch. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“I thought you wanted to watch The Bodyguard together?” 

“Raincheck?”

She nodded reluctantly, and accompanied him to the door. It felt weird seeing him go, he was a constant fixture in her house pre-Christmas. She tiptoed and pulled him down for a kiss, which lingered into a full-tongue fest. “Don’t you want to stay?” she said softly. 

He leaned against the door, a small smile on his face. “You gotta stop giving me mixed signals, Anne-girl.” She blushed, her gaze dropping to her feet. “I know you’re not ready,” he added gently.

“My body is, though.”

Gilbert grinned. Small victory was better than none. “I’ll keep that token of information in mind.”

* * *

He wanted to surprise his girlfriend for lunch on Valentine’s, but he was the one surprised instead. 

“Gil!” She exclaimed, standing up from her place on the office floor. An elaborate picnic lunch was laid on the tartan blanket, with a very familiar face sitting on the opposite side. 

He swallowed the bitterness he felt. His boxed Chinese takeout and wine felt so pheasant compared to the spread before him. “Thought I’d bring you lunch. Guess a lot of people had the same idea,” he smiled ruefully. 

She approached him, looking so much like a scared kitten. “Roy is in town and he dropped by for lunch,” she stuttered. 

The other man had stood up, looking at him warily. The expensive suit and the gleaming loafers did not compare to his shabby scrubs and worn tennis shoes.

Gilbert chuckled, holding both his hands up. “Obviously,” he answered, trying to look fondly at the love of his life, although he was sure what was projected was the face of a heartbroken man. He placed the paperbag on her table and retreated. “I’ll just leave this here for I dunno, your dinner, I guess. See you, carrots.”

He ignored her calls down the corridor and jogged to the fire exit, before making his way down the emergency staircase. 

He spent hours skating alone at the Harbourfront Centre like the lonesome loser that he was before roaming the Ontario Place that night, looking ruefully at the couples surrounding him. 

It was almost midnight before he made his way home. 

“Where have you been?”

Startled, he almost dropped his house keys. He flicked the lights on, warm glow bathing the silhouette standing by full-length glass window of his condo overlooking Lake Ontario. 

“I went skating,” he replied truthfully. He was frozen by the front door, unsure whether it was wise to step further into the room. All he wanted was to flee. 

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone?” she asked, coming into the gentle light, highlighting the tears on her face. She was beautiful, he noted, despite the tears and the rumpled-looking sweater dress. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed. He wanted so badly to run to her, but he didn’t think he could handle being rejected by her again. 

“I have so many questions, Gil. You can’t imagine how upset I was, trying to locate you -.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he cut in, looking away from her, looking away from the temptation of folding her into his arms. 

“Why shouldn’t I? Gil, you just up and left! I can’t imagine what went through your head -.”

“I deleted all my exes or whatever numbers from my life, Anne.”

She froze. “I didn’t ask you to,” she stuttered.

He looked at her in disbelief. “I did it for you. Because of the stupid thing with Winifred, I figured I owed it to you.”

Her eyes widened, accusing. “Are you saying what I had with Roy was stupid?"

No!” he shouted, shocking both her and himself. “No,” he repeated, a hand in front of him, in a calmer tone. “Don’t you know how much I regretted not coming clean with you much earlier, Anne? I said what I had with Winifred was stupid because I was already over my head in love with you but I just could not convince myself that I deserved you. And because of my stupidity, I lost you to Paris. To Roy. And although whatever you had with Roy was over, it is still haunting you, haunting me.” He shook his head, looking at her in dismay. “Haunting us,” he continued, whispering.

A fresh tear rolled down her cheek, and Gilbert felt his heart was being ripped out of his chest. 

“It’s not true,” she whispered, shaking her head. “How could you feel that way, Gil?” 

He shrugged, looking at her earnestly. “I don’t know, Anne. Why didn’t you tell me he was in town?”

She looked down, biting her lip. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

He sighed. “Don’t I have any grounds to be upset? You almost married that guy.”

Looking up, her eyes piercing. “But I came back.” _For you._

“Am I playing second fiddle to Roy, Anne? Do you not love me?” he asked softly.

She snorted. Then laughed cried. She shook her head at his audacity. “I’ve loved you for too long I don’t even know how to fall out of love with you, Gil.”

“Am I a habit? Fuck, am I a bad habit you can’t break? Is that it?” he asked, his voice and heart breaking. 

She closed the distance between them. Reaching up, cupping his cheek. “You’re an addiction.”

“Addiction you’re ashamed of,” he mumbled, turning his face to kiss her palm. 

“Why do you say that? I love you,” she sobbed openly, pulling him down with her other hand, peppering his face with kisses. 

“Do you, now?” he questioned, closing his eyes, relishing the heat of her lips on her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, pecking his lips, nuzzling his nose. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad. I love you, Gil. I swear, how could you think that I am ashamed of you? I’m just scared,” she confessed. 

“I’m sorry to ever make you feel scared, Anne-girl,” he murmured, closing his eyes at the feeling of his forehead against hers. “You should never be scared of me, of what we have. Because I want you with me forever. I want me with you forever. I want to give you my ring, and I want to wear your ring. We are a done deal, baby,” he whispered, coaxing her with his lips, her own trembling against his. 

He felt her pulling back, and slowly, he opened his eyes, and standing in front of him, a determined fiery Goddess. They stared at each other, moments passed, before she tugged his hand to follow her. 

They passed his kitchen, then his office, and she pulled him all the way to a no-go territory fir them before: his bedroom. She was the first woman to enter his sanctuary, this bedroom, and if he had his way, the last. They stood facing each other, as he raised his hand to gently rub the tears from her cheek. 

“Are you really here, Anne?” he whispered, leaning his forehead on hers. 

She raised on her tiptoes, leaving openmouthed kisses on his lips “I am, Gil,” she breathed. “Take me to bed.”

* * *

He woke up to the soft chime coming from his phone. He blinked once, then twice, seeing a strand of red in his vision. His heart thudded in his chest, and he remembered, milky breasts, soft moans, sexy whines, miles and miles of creamy white legs, the patch of red in between…

She was really here, in his arms, her breath on his chest. He tightened his hold on her, realising his hand was nestled comfortably on her pert derriere. He exhaled a grateful sigh, it really happened, she was finally his, and he was irrevocably hers. 

He smiled a like a fool. Albeit, a sleepy fool. 

He reached for his phone on the bedside table to silence the slew of incoming messages. He almost groaned, careful not to wake the gorgeous woman in his bed. It’s Saturday, he was pretty sure he had the weekend off…

Son of a bitch. 78 new messages on WhatsApp. 

He tapped the app open, realising 56 from Avonlea Crew group, after noticing 3 notifications from Moody. And from Charlie.

_Avonlea Crew (My Love, D. Barry, Moods, Charlie S., Josie P., Tillie…)_

Josie P.: Wake up, bitches! This calls for a celebration!!!

D. Barry: it’s Saturday, for God’s sake. 

Josie P.: you should adjust your predisposition Miss Barry, just because you have somebody to bone on Valentine’s.

D. Barry: Because I had somebody to bone on Valentine’s am I telling you to shut the hell up.

Tillie Boulter: we know somebody else who boned last night as well…

Charlie S.: hypothetically speaking. 

Jane A.: with that Facebook status update and that photo on insta, I call it: they legit boned last night.

Confused, Gilbert fired up his Facebook app. 23 notifications and among them, he was tagged by Anne. Her new profile photo delighted him: it was a photo of them during Christmas, in which he was kissing her temple while she smiled shyly at the camera. He clicked on it, and he was brought to a page where he was to click ‘accept’ or ‘decline’.

He clicked on ‘accept’ in a heartbeat. He never knew it felt so exhilarating to approve something on social media. 

He was officially, in a relationship with Anne S. Cuthbert. 

He tossed his phone to the side and gently turned to lay kisses on the beautiful dryad by his side. 

“Mmm,” she moaned, stretching, a nipple exposed. 

He grinned. He leaned down, because now he could suck on that beautiful pearl anytime he wanted. “Apparently I am officially Anne S. Cuthbert’s boyfriend,” he mumbled while closing his lips around her areola. 

She released a sexy sigh, that went straight to his dick. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yep, Facebook told me so,” he answered briefly before lavishing her breast with gentle suction. 

She giggled moaned. “If you said so.”

He grinned, leaning up to lay a kiss on her lips. “Cool.”

She shrugged. “Cool.”

They stared at each other, hair askew, eyes bright, her with beard burn on her breasts, him with nail scratches on his back. 

“I’m addicted to you, Gilbert Blythe.”

“Cool. Cause I’m addicted to you too, Anne Shirley Cuthbert.”

And they didn’t leave the bed, not for another few hours. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, that happened. Happy election day, Americans. Trust me, we on the other side of the globe are having sleepless nights too.


End file.
